


victory

by spacebutterfly



Category: Inazuma Eleven GO, Inazuma Eleven GO Chrono Stone
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 02:23:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacebutterfly/pseuds/spacebutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the bitter taste of defeat for El Dorado Team 01, but between the two of them, who really had it worse?</p>
            </blockquote>





	victory

"We seriously took a beating!" sighs Nishiki loudly. "I’m gonna have bruises everywhere by tomorrow! By this evening, even!" he adds good-naturedly. His words are met with a stony silence. Even if they all did their best, it’s a crushing loss. The walk of shame along this darkened corridor isn’t doing much for the team’s morale either. All this doom and gloom makes Nishiki feel uncomfortable, even if he understands it completely. "Hey, Tsurugi," he says brightly, "How’s your leg? Think it’ll heal up quick?"

Tsurugi looks at him. “It’s fine, it’s nothing. You should be worrying more about yourself, Nishiki-senpai. Zan really had it in for you.”

"Look who’s talking!" Nishiki laughs, patting Tsurugi on the shoulder, and instantly regretting it when he sees him wince in pain. "Oops, sorry, Tsurugi…"

"It’s fine," the younger boy insists, smiling weakly. "It’s nothing, really…"

"All right, then." Nishiki chuckles nervously, then freezes. He looks over his shoulder bewilderingly, but the stretch of corridor that they’re leaving behind is as dark and empty as ever. Tsurugi pauses too.

"Nishiki-senpai?"

"Oh, uh…" Nishiki slowly looks back around. "I thought I heard something, but I guess not…"

Tsurugi takes a hard look down the corridor. “Someone from Zan, maybe?”

"Maybe," says Nishiki doubtfully, "But-"

_I’m not done with you yet._

Nishiki looks back down the corridor with a jolt. The voice sends a shiver down his spine, but there’s still no sign of the one who said it. Nishiki looks at Tsurugi, who just looks bemused.

"But…?"

"You didn’t hear that?" Nishiki frowns, looking from his friend to the corridor and back again. Tsurugi looks concerned.

"Nishiki-senpai, we’re all tired. For now we should just-"

"Sorry," interrupts Nishiki, taking his friend by surprise, "I think I forgot something on the field. You go catch up with the others and I’ll be back later, all right?" Before Tsurugi can reply, Nishiki is already sprinting back down the corridor, retracing their steps from before. Running again makes his everything ache, but somehow this feels important. Tsurugi makes no sign of trying to stop him.

The corridor feels so much longer to Nishiki than it had before. His throat is burning from only a small amount of running, and his torso is aching from where Zan had elbowed and headbutted him so many times. He stops to take a breather, leaning against the wall. It’s a few minutes or so before he notices someone’s shadow at his feet, and he nearly jumps out of his skin. Looking up, his brown eyes meet red.

"Zanark," Nishiki pants, feeling mildly confused, "Why…aren’t you with…those guys?"

"I quit," is the blunt reply. It’s strange. Zanark was never exactly friendly before, but now there’s a kind of frustration in his eyes that makes Nishiki feel apprehensive.

"Good," he says, not wanting to break eye contact all the same. "Those guys…weren’t right for you." Rather than giving any indication of acknowledging Nishiki’s reply, Zanark steps in front of him, sandwiching him between himself and the wall. His face is so close that Nishiki can feel his breath.

"We beat you," he says, as if wanting to drill the words into Nishiki’s wounds. "How does that make you feel?"

Nishiki blinks at him. He could state the obvious and tell him how he really feels: absolutely terrible. But he’s tired of talking about that, and he doesn’t feel like giving in to Zanark when he’s making such an uncharacteristically grim expression.

"Doesn’t matter," Nishiki grins, thoroughly enjoying the shock on his rival’s face. "Because in the end, we’re still gonna win this tournament." Zanark narrows his eyes. He looks livid. Nishiki seriously considers asking him why he’s acting so weird, but before he can get the words out, Zanark slams his palms against the wall either side of Nishiki’s head, making him jump. "Zanark?!"

"How can _you_ be fine, and yet I feel like this?" Zanark snarls. "I came all this way to beat you, and that’s exactly what I did." He grits his teeth at Nishiki’s wide-eyed expression. "I won, but it didn’t feel like a win."

"Maybe you didn’t win," says Nishiki brightly. "You can’t really call that a a fair match. I’m okay if we just call it at Nishiki: one and Zanark: nil." Again, he can’t help but smirk at Zanark’s irritated expression. There’s a more childish feel of competitiveness behind it now.

"I’ve crushed Raimon more than once."

"But when it comes to fair-and-square one-on-ones, I win. Right?"

Zanark furrows his brow. You could almost call his expression a pout. Nishiki laughs, making the other boy bristle.

"What’s so funny?"

"You just look more like yourself again." Nishiki grins. "We’ll get another chance for a rematch, right? Let’s hold off on deciding who the strongest is until then."

Zanark grins, much to Nishiki’s relief. “Heh. I thought you’d say that.”


End file.
